


A Day of Destiny

by notelly



Category: Crash Bandicoot (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7301839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notelly/pseuds/notelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>thanks @ zach for ruining my life by telling me to write this</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day of Destiny

The morning light shone blindingly through the old, patchy curtains.

 _I really need to get new curtains_ , thought Cortex, who in fact, deeply resented having to wake up at the break of dawn. As he stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over his own bedsheet, and into the bathroom of his tiny, run-down apartment, Cortex came face-to-face with the worst part of his day: seeing his own reflection in the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth and washed his face.

Cortex had long since given up his dreams of one day becoming even an “average”-looking man. Not only was he so short that he had to use a stool to reach the counter, he was in possession of what his classmates used to call “a total pizza face,” which was in reference to both his teenage acne and his undeniably-Italian features. Now in his late 40s, Cortex had grown out of the craters that used to sprinkle his face. Instead, middle age had blessed him with a balding head and deep, red bags under his eyes. He was lucky that he could pass as a cartoon character – otherwise he would never have been hired at the train station café, lest he scare the living crap out of the children and even, possibly, the adult customers as well.

Now decently clean, Cortex rubbed his red, sleep-heavy eyes and headed back around his bed, where a measly collection of clothes hung. Besides going to work, Cortex rarely went out, except to the grocery store. He didn’t see the need for more than two or three outfits, especially considering the meager salary he had to live on. Feeling self-conscious (his hair had been extremely hard to tame this morning), he reached for his white lab coat and yellow gloves. At least this way no one will laugh at the hair on my arms today, he thought.

Cortex reached the café at 5:45 am, 25 minutes after having woken up. The manager had already unlocked the doors and was setting down the chairs.

“Good, you’re here,” said Koala Kong. “Supplies are in. Help the early birds.”

Even at 5:45, a small assortment of customers was hanging around, waiting for their trains into the city. Koala Kong, being one of those exercise-happy hippy types, was never in a rush. If he were any other man, the owner would have fired him already; but his large biceps and deep voice charmed the customers and brought in sales, so he was here to stay. Cortex didn’t mind. It just meant that he could wake up at sunrise instead of before dawn.

Cortex headed behind the counter and kicked his stool into place behind the register. Climbing up, he started ringing up the first customers. Most he saw every day. The existence of daily customers was very good for him, since they no longer stared at him like his freakish appearance demanded he belong in a zoo. A few hours into the day, new customers would always appear and a strangled sound usually escaped their throat when their eyes found Cortex. Koala Kong had noticed this unfortunate pattern and let Cortex move from cashier duty to making coffees by 8am.

One such clueless customer wandered in around 9:50, wearing nothing but a tight pair of blue jeans and large construction-worker boots. It could not have been more obvious that this man was no construction worker – as soon as he walked past the threshold he collapsed down onto one of the sofas in the most relaxed pose that Cortex thought only the richest, most spoiled kid could possibly pull off.

As if he could hear his thought, the orange man turned his head and made eye contact with Cortex from behind the counter at that very moment. Embarrassed, Cortex looked away. He assumed that the man would eventually get up to catch his train (the next one was in 5 minutes) but he instead sat there for close to a half hour, until the morning rush died down. Finished with his line of customers, Koala Kong exited from behind the counter and walked over to the man. _Is he going to tell him to leave? Because he’s just been sitting there?_ , worried Cortex. Koala Kong was intimidating, but this man did not look the type to take orders.

“What’s up, buddy!” yelled Koala Kong, slapping the man on his arm. Surprised, Cortex almost dropped the mug he was cleaning. _Who is this guy?_

The two began talking animatedly, laughing at what Cortex could make out to be extremely dumb jokes, until Koala Kong led the man back to the counter to introduce him to Cortex and the other worker, Ripper Roo.

“This is Crash, the owner’s son,” explained Koala Kong. _The owner’s son?!_ Cortex’s mouth fell open. The owner of their particular coffee shop was actually a rich businessman who happened to own a handful of non-chain, mom-and-pop style coffee shops like the one they were in right now.

Koala Kong kept talking without noticing Cortex’s lack of manners, “Crash just graduated from college. His father is bringing him into the company and wants him to start from the bottom. So, he’ll be working with us for the rest of the summer.”

Koala Kong gave Crash another smack on the back, as if he thought they were best bros. Crash introduced himself again, shaking Ripper Roo’s hand and then Cortex’s.

“Did you think I didn’t see your mouth fall open?” Crash whispered into Cortex’s ear as he leaned over to give him one of those half-hugs that frat boys give each other.

Cortex was at a loss of what to do. Should he smile? Should he fire back something witty? He settled for a weak smile that faltered in the face of Crash’s tremendous smirk. _Who does this guy think he is?_

As soon as the moment came, it passed. Crash moved away to follow Koala Kong around as he was given a tour of the place. Cortex stared at them for a while, but was forced to go back to his position with his cheeks on fire to prepare for the lunch rush when Crash caught him staring.

The rest of the day proved fairly uneventful. Crash was to shadow Koala Kong this week, Ripper Roo the week after, and Cortex last before he became a regular employee. Cortex thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Except for the strange way Crash whispered into his ear that morning, Crash had barely acknowledged him beyond the typical employee-employee camaraderie.

Koala Kong and Crash left early to treat Crash to a welcome dinner, leaving Cortex and Ripper Roo to close up. Cortex was exhausted from working all day and was looking forward to getting home and laying down on his bed to do nothing when all of the sudden Crash appeared in front of him on his way out.

Startled, Cortex almost cried out to Ripper Roo, who had been disappearing around the corner a moment ago. Crash looked at him expectantly. _What is he doing here?_ , thought Cortex. _Is he a stalker?!_

Cortex was alarmed by the thought. But Crash did not move closer to him, and instead waited for Cortex to talk.

“Um …. did you have a nice dinner?,” asked Cortex.

When Crash didn’t answer, Cortex continued, “Where’s Koala Kong?”

“He got drunk. I had to take him home,” said Crash.

Cortex shifted.”Oh. Ok then. Um I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

Crash stepped in front of Cortex as he started forward, earning a shriek from the older man.

“What are you doing?!”

Crash laughed. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier. Did you really think I wouldn’t pick up on it?”

Cortex felt his cheeks start to burn. He looked away. _What does he want with me?_

Crash went on, “I found myself wondering what your apartment looks like. Where you sleep. How you wake up in the morning. Would you like to show me?”

Cortex’s eyes widened. “W.. Wh. …. What-t-t??”

“On second thought,” considered Crash, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it all the way to your apartment. I want you now.”

Cortex stumbled as Crash pushed him back against the wall, cornering him. It was impossible to miss the bulge starting to appear in Crash’s tight jeans.

“Wh-what-t-t are you saying?” squeaked Cortex. “You can’t possibly see me like that.”

“Why not? Do you have no confidence?” Crash stoked Cortex’s head and traced his balding line with his finger. “Don’t you like me?”

“I ….. I guess ……. I m-m-mean I haven’t really thought about it …” muttered Cortex, too fired up to bother lying.

“Good. Now let’s get started,” said Crash, kneeling down and looking up at him in a way that made Cortex’s knees start to buckle.

**Author's Note:**

> WHY DID YOU READ THIS


End file.
